LETTER XXVII.
A WEEK-END AT NAGABA
Iloilo, May 8, 1905.
We were just going to Nagaba when I finished my last letter, I think, and now we have just returned, after having had a most delightful time over there.
We went over in the launch on Saturday, leaving here at half-past four, and to look at the start from here you would have thought we were going for good to China or Japan!
Before we set out, we sent a boy for a carabao-cart, inside which the gear was stowed:—two rolls of bedding; some large wooden cases with household effects; C——’s suit-case with what clothes we had to take; and Sotero sitting behind, carrying a mysterious bundle, with the cook beside him, got up in a clean pink and green muslin camisa and blue cotton trousers, carrying C——’s panama in one hand, and a long sack full of his beloved pots and pans in the other. C—— and I and Tuyay followed in the calesa, leaving Domingo in charge of the house, under oath to mucho quedado (take great care), but rather gloomy at not being in the outing.
At the Muelle Loney we embarked, with friends waving to us from the office windows as if we were going away for ever. The day was perfect and the crossing lovely, but a slight swell made it rather difficult for us to tranship into the small boat we had towed over. When we got to the other side, C—— did the complete and efficient sailorman in stowing the gear in the boat, handing me down (something after the fashion of the Arabs at Jaffa) into the cook’s embrace, and giving orders generally; but he spoilt the whole effect by falling into the boat right on top of me, and bonneting me in my own topee, at which debâcle the cook showed all his dark red betel-stained teeth from ear to ear, and even Tuyay laughed.
The tide was very far out, showing long stretches of wet sand and reefs, all shining in the sunlight, with strips of very blue water in between. C—— quite redeemed his reputation for sailorising as he steered the boat ashore by the colour of the water over the sand banks; and we managed to get not very far from the front of the house, which we could just manage to make out amongst the trees and rocks, but the water-pipes on the bamboo frames going out into the sea, showed us where to look. The crew and the servants waded ashore, carrying gear, and Tuyay was chucked out and splashed along with them, while two skinny brown ragamuffins made a “chair” of their arms, and carried me—with puffings and groanings, so rude!—to land, and set me down on the beach with a sigh of relief. After landing me and the ménage, C—— rowed back to the launch to put the sailors on board, and she steamed away to Iloilo again. Coming back in the boat alone, he tied her up to a fish corral—a sort of wattle fence in the shallow water—and then waded ashore and came gingerly up the sharp rocks.
By the time he arrived I had unpacked, and it was about half-past five, so we put on bathing suits and filled the swimming bath, and the fun began at once. It was delicious, after the long, hot day, to splash about in the cool, fresh water, and we stayed there till it was quite dark, and we could see stars shining in the patches of dark sky between the branches. By-the-bye, I often think how strange it seems to see the same old Orion’s Belt and Cassiopeia looking down on us here. We see the Southern Cross, too, low on the horizon—a disappointing exhibition, and no one would think it was meant for a cross unless they were told so.